


Disturbing

by micehell



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-19
Updated: 2005-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wraiths in clown suits are very disturbing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disturbing

**Author's Note:**

> Written under the influence of too little sleep. ;)

Rodney heard the door to his lab open, and looked at the time. The major was on time for their meeting. Rodney considered. It was odd, but within the realm of possibility. He still thought that Ford was overreacting.

Turning to tell John what he'd wanted to see him about, he found himself suddenly at a loss for words. John stood before him, somewhat close, but well out of personal space territory. He looked neat and collected; his face shaved, hair combed, and a polite greeting was on his lips.

Rodney stared in horror. He'd been wrong, as hard as that was to believe. Ford was obviously under reacting. The situation was far more dire than either one of them had thought. Well, he'd have to do something about it, but it would require a delicate touch. He'd have to use all of the tact and charm that he was capable of.

"What the hell's the matter with you, Major?"

John faltered for a moment, but snapped out of it quickly. He smiled and said, "Nice to see you too, McKay." But he said it flatly, sans smirk or sarcasm.

Rodney nodded to himself. If he'd needed any more proof, that was it. "Yeah, yeah, good to see you. Now what the hell's the matter with you?"

For a moment, Rodney thought that the major was actually going to ignore him, but then John sighed, his shoulders sagging. Now that he wasn't trying to hide it, Rodney could see the exhaustion that was almost seeping out of the man.

"I... well...."

Rodney grew impatient. Well, more impatient, anyway. "No, you're not well. You look... hmm, I was going to say like hell, but actually you look like a normal human being, which is frankly kind of scary. You obviously haven't been sleeping, which, now that I think of it, explains the hair. What I don't know is why?"

John hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "You've got to promise me you want tell anyone, Rodney."

"Major, I wouldn't have to. They've already noticed that something is wrong with you. The lack of sarcasm was a big clue, but the hair...."

"Will you get over the hair, already. I was trying to act normal so that no one would worry."

Rodney laughed. "Yeah, that's why they were worried."

John gave him a small smile in return, but it looked like it took an effort. "But that wasn't what I meant, anyway. I want you to promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you." He paused, and then shook his head. "Fuck, I'm tired. Did that make any sense?"

"Sure. Just tell me what's the problem. Maybe I can help."

"Well, I don't see how, but I need to talk to someone, and I guess you'll do." He pushed on before Rodney could object to that. "I've been having these dreams, and they're really messing up my sleep."

Rodney stepped forward and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "Major, it's nothing to be ashamed about. We're all adults here, in age at least, and -"

John cut him off. "Not those kind of dreams. I've been dreaming about the Wraith."

"I see." Rodney thought about it a moment, then said, "No, I don't. I know they're getting closer, and trust me, I know how unsettling that thought can be, but I'd be willing to bet that you've dreamt about the Wraith at least once or twice before now."

Finding his feet fascinating all of a sudden, John shrugged. "Yeah, I have. Just not like this."

Rodney shook his head, still not getting it. "Like what? Is it sexual in some way?"

"Geez, get your mind out of the gutter. No, it's not sexual." But then he stopped, and frowned. "At least not that I can see." He shook his head. "No, not even Freud could make something sexual out of Wraiths in clown suits."

And for the second time in a matter of minutes, Rodney found himself speechless. It was a disturbing trend, though not as disturbing as the image of Wraiths in clown suits. He could understand why John was having problems sleeping.

"Clown suits, huh? Interesting. In a sick sort of way. So you're having these weird... incredibly weird dreams and you can't sleep." At John's nod, Rodney continued. "Why didn't you just go to Carson and get some pills then? I'm sure he must have something that would put you to sleep without any dreams."

Another sigh, and John seemed to sag even further. "I did, and he did. And it should have worked, because only about 1% of people have any reaction to it."

Rodney smirked. "And of course you're in that 1%. I could have guessed."

John pouted at him, which almost distracted Rodney, but he waved his hand for John to continue.

"Yeah, so instead of giving me some nice, dreamless sleep, the medicine's been making the dreams worse, really vivid. And if there's one dream that you don't want to be vivid, seeing a Wraith in a clown suit is it. So I haven't been sleeping."

"Yes, that's apparent. But it can't go on. Your ass is dragging, and you'll just wind up getting sick if this goes on. Or hurt. And you're scaring everyone with the politeness, and the shaving. And the hair."

John slapped at him, but thanks to extreme exhaustion, didn't come anywhere close. "Will you stop with the hair comments?"

Rodney took hold of John's arm, steering him to the door. "I'll stop as soon as you get some sleep. Now you need to go talk to Carson."

And John was so tired that he didn't even argue. Disturbing, indeed.

::::::::::

Carson assured Rodney that the lack of coherent thought on Major Sheppard's part was just part of the lack of sleep. "The longer he went without sleep, the more reasonable it seemed to him to avoid it. I'll give him something besides the Ambien, and he should be fine."

John dutifully swallowed the pills he was handed, and didn't argue with Carson about staying in the infirmary to sleep. Rodney shot Carson a nervous glance, but he just gave Rodney what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile.

When John started snoring, Rodney decided that that was reassurance enough, and he went back to his lab.

::::::::::

Rodney was having one of those dreams, the ones that didn't involve Wraiths with or without clown suits, when he was startled awake by a banging at his door. Before he could even list all the ways he was going to kill whoever it was, the door was opening on its own, telling Rodney that it was John.

"What are you...?" He trailed off as he caught sight of the man. John looked even more tired than before, if that was possible, and his hair was lying flat on his head. It wasn't a good sign. The only benefit to the look was that it was killing the hard-on that the non-Wraith dream had given Rodney. Who'd have thought that flat hair was such a turn off?

Rodney sighed, resigned to not getting back to sleep anytime soon. "More Wraith in clown suits?"

John didn't look at him, instead focusing on his shuffling feet. "No."

Ok, that wasn't the answer that Rodney had expected. "If you didn't have a dream, then what's so urgent that you had to come to my room at..." he looked over at his clock, "2:00 AM?"

"I didn't say I didn't have a dream. I said it wasn't that one."

"Major, you really don't want to start dicing semantics with me at this time of the morning. Or any other time, really. What do you want?"

The shuffling feet thing got worse, and John looked more like a little kid called up on the carpet than a tough Air Force officer. Not that that was terribly unusual.

But he finally looked right at Rodney and it all came tumbling out. "It was even worse than before. Cowen and Kolya were in my room, and they were both naked... and I was naked... and I couldn't move...."

Forgetting about his irritation, Rodney stood up and hugged John. "It's Ok, you don't have to say the rest." He rubbed his hand up and down in what he hoped was a comforting manner, though considering the dream, he wasn't sure that his touch would be welcome at the moment.

But John leaned into his touch with no apparent hesitation. His breath was coming in pants, and he was shaking slightly, though whether that was fear or exhaustion, Rodney couldn't tell. Rodney kept up the rubbing, repeating, "It's Ok."

John shook his head. "No. It was horrible. 'Cause I couldn't move, and all I could do was watch as they... started to dance."

It took a moment for Rodney to realize what he'd heard, and even then he didn't believe it. "Dance?"

He felt the nod against his shoulder, and the shaking seemed to be getting worse. "And sing. And they were singing Celine Dion songs... and doing high kicks." He shuddered, hugging Rodney hard. "It was horrible."

Now Rodney was picturing it in his head, and he had to agree that it was pretty bad. And he wasn't even dealing with exhaustion on top of everything else. Though he would be if he didn't get back to sleep soon. He sighed, knowing that he couldn't just send John back to the infirmary. Or wouldn't, anyway, though he didn't want to think about that right now.

He gave one last squeeze, then broke the hug, leading a startled John over to the bed and pushing him down on it. "Yes, it was horrible, but it was just a dream. Now we both need some rest, so just lie back and go to sleep."

John didn't argue with Rodney's preemptory manner. In fact, he didn't argue about anything, he just lay down and went to sleep.

Rodney found himself missing the arguing as he lay there beside John, not sleeping.

::::::::::

Rodney wasn't startled by the knocking at his door this time, as he'd been expecting it, and as he hadn't been asleep. When John came in, he was squinting at the light, but the squint did nothing to disguise the dark circles underneath the eyes. And the hair that could have been a cap, it showed so little inclination to move away from the major's head.

"What was it this time?"

"I was kissing Kavanaugh."

Rodney felt his stomach twist at the thought of it, but luckily no images sprang to mind. "Major... John, this can't go on. You need to sleep. Hell, I need to sleep. We're going to have to go see Carson again."

And John didn't argue with him, just followed him quietly down the halls. Rodney was becoming used to this compliancy. He'd sometimes fantasized about the major finally shutting up and listening to him, but he was finding the reality of it was somewhat less attractive than he'd imagined. Who knew?

::::::::::

Carson was shaking his head. "I've never had a case like it. Everything I give him just makes the dreams worse. I don't like to do it, but I think I'm going to have to give him something that'll knock him out without dreams. Not healthy for the long run, but he's needs the rest now."

Before he could continue, a couple of marines came in, one supporting the other. The sight of the blood repelled Rodney, but, of course, it drew Carson like a magnet. He only stopped long enough to call back, "Keep an eye on him, Rodney. I'll be back in a bit." And then he was leading the two soldiers off into another room.

So Rodney kept an eye on John. Which wasn't difficult because a) John was actually sleeping at the moment, and because b) even with the shadows under his eyes and the flat hair, he was still exceptionally attractive.

Rodney shook his head to clear the thought, but it didn't disappear. He really needed to get some rest. Though, if he were being completely honest, it wasn't like the thought had never occurred to him even before all of this had happened. He would've had to be blind not to have noticed John.

Now that he thought about it, the hug had been nice, even if it had been a just for comfort thing. No, that was just the lack of sleep talking. Or the lack of sex. He liked John, thought of him as his best friend, but the man was far too irritating to be truly attractive.

But if that were true, why was Rodney missing the smirk and the snark so much?

His thoughts were interrupted by a noise from John. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his closed lids, the outward sign of the inward images that would probably wake him at any moment. Rodney reached out, ready to shake the man awake, but he'd barely laid a hand on the now trembling shoulder before John started up, eyes wild with fright.

"It's Ok. It was just a dream."

Before he knew it, Rodney found himself grasped tightly in John's arms, the dark head pressing into his neck, the heavy, rapid breaths blowing hot, moist air across his skin, raising goose bumps. Among other things. Rodney firmly reminded himself that he was here to offer comfort, and that John was here to receive it. Nothing else.

He tried to pull back, but John wasn't letting go. "No, don't go, Rodney. Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere. You were just dreaming."

It finally seemed to be getting through as the grip that held him loosened a little, but not enough for Rodney to pull away. Rodney gave into the hug, doing his part in the holding, and just hoping that John was too out of it to feel that Rodney's interest in the proceedings weren't entirely altruistic.

When John's breathing had slowed, and the shaking had dissipated, Rodney asked, "What was the dream this time? Did we run out of popcorn?"

John was quiet for so long, Rodney began to think that he'd fallen back asleep, but he finally said, in a voice that was little more than a whisper, "No. We ran out of you. You just disappeared, and I couldn't find you anywhere. I kept looking, and sometimes I'd think I was about to find you, but you were never there."

Rodney had found the thought of Wraiths in clown suits disturbing. The thought of Cowen and Kolya dancing naked while singing Celine Dion songs was horrible. And the idea of anyone kissing Kavanaugh, let alone John, was absolutely disgusting. But the idea of John desperately searching for because he'd disappeared was... sort of endearing. In a morbid sort of way.

Without thinking about the consequences, Rodney kissed the top of John's head, flat hair and all. And found himself on the receiving end of a kiss that had nothing to do with hair, unless five o'clock shadow counted. John's lips were every bit as firm and supple as they'd seemed in that one dream that... the rest of the thought dissolved in a wave of lust.

Then John was rubbing against Rodney's already hard cock, his own rapidly filling, and any argument Rodney might have made against this precipitous course of action died before it could be voiced. Nerves were stretched too thin, and feelings had been pushed down too long, but there was nothing of denial now.

It was quick and it was dirty, little more than desperate hands jerking needy flesh, both of them too excited and too far into sleep deprivation for any finesse. It was also the most exciting sex that Rodney could ever remember having.

Lust gone, fears appeased, John slipped back into sleep, the lines on his face smoothing out, a content smile playing on his lips. It was the most peaceful expression that Rodney had seen on his face since... well, since ever.

He could feel sleep tugging at his own mind, but he had enough presence of mind to at least get their clothing back into place, so that it covered their asses, so to speak, but there wasn't anything he could do about the smell.

Rodney was very aware of that fact when Carson came back, his nose wrinkling as he walked into the room. The doctor didn't make any comment, however, he just went to check on John. When his exam was done, he turned to Rodney and said, "Good job. He looks to be resting well. It looks like I won't have to give him anything else, after all."

He then muttered to himself, "Though why he didn't just tell me that he wasn't getting any...." But then he smiled at Rodney. "Well, all's well that ends well. Now that that's taken care of, why don't you get some sleep yourself? You'll need to keep your strength up if you're going to... help out the major." He left the room with a wink.

Rodney was tired enough that he didn't even care that Carson had got in the last word. He looked again at the smile on John's face and felt its mirror tugging on his own. He decided that, for once, he didn't need to figure out everything, that some things could just be enjoyed for what they were. Whether he would feel that way once he had enough sleep, he didn't know, but it didn't really bother him at the moment, either.

He yawned, the exhaustion hitting him hard, weighing down his limbs enough that he didn't think he could make it back to his quarters. So he pushed John over, and settled in beside him. He'd worry about Carson and the nurses seeing them later. He was asleep within minutes.

And he was so tired, that even the dream with the Wraith-like Kavanaugh, dressed in a clown suit, and kissing John wasn't enough to wake him.

/story


End file.
